


A View of Land

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Poetry, Post-War of the Ring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-26 01:19:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3831867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The final thoughts before heading into the West.  Originally written for Elrond, but not terribly character-specific.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A View of Land

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

To ride the sea and hurry West, in Swan-ships decked with gold and silk; the dream that stirred my sleep for years will come to rest within my gaze. The Sun, with strength of candlelight, casts out her rays upon the waves before she fades and night descends. Then swirls of stars will match her gleam. At morning's break the first will fly, and more will follow through the day, until, at Sunset's wane, I draw a breath to take and taste and feel upon the shores where I was born. It seems to me a blessing made for suffering and gladness, which will twist my heart with doubt, I fear.

Years one cannot count have passed. The legends of this age will crack and be replaced by thoughts of dust and cobweb in the minds of Men, who care to think on newness. But the recollection of the Elves is forced to dwell on times when we had strength, when we had wisdom, though we weakened in our folly like a house of clay in water. And the stars took sides against us when we claimed we could not falter, nor could we retreat, nor could we fall. I see it all, a show in dreams, replaying through the mist of time. And I can watch, without my eyes.

Tomorrow's sunset will reveal, in light that glows, a sight to seal in memory. The view to take from water's crown (as lapsing into silence, we, in silence, mourn) will bring grief's measure equalling the lasting calm that can be found as currents sing and urge us on.


End file.
